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Posted

No. No. No. What's the other thing which reads the same backwards as forwards?

Ex-King Zog of Albania reports... :popcorn:

I wish to report a burglary!

Oh, no, not again. :eyeroll: Take it off the hook.

Look! I'm not absolutely certain, but, well I do rather get the impression that there is someone actually knocking on the door at this very moment.

It's the Liberal Party candidate, darling. :gumby:

If I let you in you'll sell me encyclopaedias. :boo hiss:

Well, there's a "Bridget - Queen of the Whip." :whipgirl:

and with every third book you get dung.

So, sir, that is, if I may say so, one hundred and eighty-four pounds one and a half p, sir. :cool:

Oh honestly dear, why do we always have to buy everything just because the Cheap-Laughs have one?

It's a great conversation piece. :fuckwithadmin:

Oh, waiter. This conversation isn't very good.

Well, everyone is talking about the Third World War which broke out this morning. But here on 'Nationwide' we're going to get away from that a bit. :guitar:

Well obviously it'll depend how far you've got with your party when the signal for Red Revolt is raised. If you're just having preliminary aperitifs - Dubonnet, a sherry or a sparkling white wine - then the guests will obviously be in a fairly formal mood and it will be difficult to tell which are the communist agitators.

Mash that dirty red scum, kick 'em in the teeth where it hurts. The filthy bastard commies, I hate 'em! :madra:
Posted

No. No. No. What's the other thing which reads the same backwards as forwards?

Ex-King Zog of Albania reports... :popcorn:

I wish to report a burglary!

Oh, no, not again. :eyeroll: Take it off the hook.

Look! I'm not absolutely certain, but, well I do rather get the impression that there is someone actually knocking on the door at this very moment.

It's the Liberal Party candidate, darling. :gumby:

If I let you in you'll sell me encyclopaedias. :boo hiss:

Well, there's a "Bridget - Queen of the Whip." :whipgirl:

and with every third book you get dung.

So, sir, that is, if I may say so, one hundred and eighty-four pounds one and a half p, sir. :cool:

Oh honestly dear, why do we always have to buy everything just because the Cheap-Laughs have one?

It's a great conversation piece. :fuckwithadmin:

Oh, waiter. This conversation isn't very good.

Well, everyone is talking about the Third World War which broke out this morning. But here on 'Nationwide' we're going to get away from that a bit. :guitar:

Well obviously it'll depend how far you've got with your party when the signal for Red Revolt is raised. If you're just having preliminary aperitifs - Dubonnet, a sherry or a sparkling white wine - then the guests will obviously be in a fairly formal mood and it will be difficult to tell which are the communist agitators.

Mash that dirty red scum, kick 'em in the teeth where it hurts. The filthy bastard commies, I hate 'em! :madra:

Ah, gleetings, capitalist dog; very sorry but must inform you, you are now prisoner of People's Republic.
Posted

No. No. No. What's the other thing which reads the same backwards as forwards?

Ex-King Zog of Albania reports... :popcorn:

I wish to report a burglary!

Oh, no, not again. :eyeroll: Take it off the hook.

Look! I'm not absolutely certain, but, well I do rather get the impression that there is someone actually knocking on the door at this very moment.

It's the Liberal Party candidate, darling. :gumby:

If I let you in you'll sell me encyclopaedias. :boo hiss:

Well, there's a "Bridget - Queen of the Whip." :whipgirl:

and with every third book you get dung.

So, sir, that is, if I may say so, one hundred and eighty-four pounds one and a half p, sir. :cool:

Oh honestly dear, why do we always have to buy everything just because the Cheap-Laughs have one?

It's a great conversation piece. :fuckwithadmin:

Oh, waiter. This conversation isn't very good.

Well, everyone is talking about the Third World War which broke out this morning. But here on 'Nationwide' we're going to get away from that a bit. :guitar:

Well obviously it'll depend how far you've got with your party when the signal for Red Revolt is raised. If you're just having preliminary aperitifs - Dubonnet, a sherry or a sparkling white wine - then the guests will obviously be in a fairly formal mood and it will be difficult to tell which are the communist agitators.

Mash that dirty red scum, kick 'em in the teeth where it hurts. The filthy bastard commies, I hate 'em! :madra:

Ah, gleetings, capitalist dog; very sorry but must inform you, you are now prisoner of People's Republic.

Would you like drinkee? Or game bingo? :drool:
Posted

No. No. No. What's the other thing which reads the same backwards as forwards?

Ex-King Zog of Albania reports... :popcorn:

I wish to report a burglary!

Oh, no, not again. :eyeroll: Take it off the hook.

Look! I'm not absolutely certain, but, well I do rather get the impression that there is someone actually knocking on the door at this very moment.

It's the Liberal Party candidate, darling. :gumby:

If I let you in you'll sell me encyclopaedias. :boo hiss:

Well, there's a "Bridget - Queen of the Whip." :whipgirl:

and with every third book you get dung.

So, sir, that is, if I may say so, one hundred and eighty-four pounds one and a half p, sir. :cool:

Oh honestly dear, why do we always have to buy everything just because the Cheap-Laughs have one?

It's a great conversation piece. :fuckwithadmin:

Oh, waiter. This conversation isn't very good.

Well, everyone is talking about the Third World War which broke out this morning. But here on 'Nationwide' we're going to get away from that a bit. :guitar:

Well obviously it'll depend how far you've got with your party when the signal for Red Revolt is raised. If you're just having preliminary aperitifs - Dubonnet, a sherry or a sparkling white wine - then the guests will obviously be in a fairly formal mood and it will be difficult to tell which are the communist agitators.

Mash that dirty red scum, kick 'em in the teeth where it hurts. The filthy bastard commies, I hate 'em! :madra:

Ah, gleetings, capitalist dog; very sorry but must inform you, you are now prisoner of People's Republic.

Would you like drinkee? Or game bingo? :drool:

We'll kill him first... and then have tea and biscuits.

Posted

No. No. No. What's the other thing which reads the same backwards as forwards?

Ex-King Zog of Albania reports... :popcorn:

I wish to report a burglary!

Oh, no, not again. :eyeroll: Take it off the hook.

Look! I'm not absolutely certain, but, well I do rather get the impression that there is someone actually knocking on the door at this very moment.

It's the Liberal Party candidate, darling. :gumby:

If I let you in you'll sell me encyclopaedias. :boo hiss:

Well, there's a "Bridget - Queen of the Whip." :whipgirl:

and with every third book you get dung.

So, sir, that is, if I may say so, one hundred and eighty-four pounds one and a half p, sir. :cool:

Oh honestly dear, why do we always have to buy everything just because the Cheap-Laughs have one?

It's a great conversation piece. :fuckwithadmin:

Oh, waiter. This conversation isn't very good.

Well, everyone is talking about the Third World War which broke out this morning. But here on 'Nationwide' we're going to get away from that a bit. :guitar:

Well obviously it'll depend how far you've got with your party when the signal for Red Revolt is raised. If you're just having preliminary aperitifs - Dubonnet, a sherry or a sparkling white wine - then the guests will obviously be in a fairly formal mood and it will be difficult to tell which are the communist agitators.

Mash that dirty red scum, kick 'em in the teeth where it hurts. The filthy bastard commies, I hate 'em! :madra:

Ah, gleetings, capitalist dog; very sorry but must inform you, you are now prisoner of People's Republic.

Would you like drinkee? Or game bingo? :drool:

We'll kill him first... and then have tea and biscuits.

Right on. Two chicken! One scampi! One boeuf with green salad. :unsure: There may be...a little delay.
Posted

No. No. No. What's the other thing which reads the same backwards as forwards?

Ex-King Zog of Albania reports... :popcorn:

I wish to report a burglary!

Oh, no, not again. :eyeroll: Take it off the hook.

Look! I'm not absolutely certain, but, well I do rather get the impression that there is someone actually knocking on the door at this very moment.

It's the Liberal Party candidate, darling. :gumby:

If I let you in you'll sell me encyclopaedias. :boo hiss:

Well, there's a "Bridget - Queen of the Whip." :whipgirl:

and with every third book you get dung.

So, sir, that is, if I may say so, one hundred and eighty-four pounds one and a half p, sir. :cool:

Oh honestly dear, why do we always have to buy everything just because the Cheap-Laughs have one?

It's a great conversation piece. :fuckwithadmin:

Oh, waiter. This conversation isn't very good.

Well, everyone is talking about the Third World War which broke out this morning. But here on 'Nationwide' we're going to get away from that a bit. :guitar:

Well obviously it'll depend how far you've got with your party when the signal for Red Revolt is raised. If you're just having preliminary aperitifs - Dubonnet, a sherry or a sparkling white wine - then the guests will obviously be in a fairly formal mood and it will be difficult to tell which are the communist agitators.

Mash that dirty red scum, kick 'em in the teeth where it hurts. The filthy bastard commies, I hate 'em! :madra:

Ah, gleetings, capitalist dog; very sorry but must inform you, you are now prisoner of People's Republic.

Would you like drinkee? Or game bingo? :drool:

We'll kill him first... and then have tea and biscuits.

Right on. Two chicken! One scampi! One boeuf with green salad. :unsure: There may be...a little delay.

I'm sure the head waiter, he will want to apologize to you himself. I will fetch him at once.
Posted

I'm sure the head waiter, he will want to apologize to you himself. I will fetch him at once.

Well, I'm awfully sorry, I'm -- I really can explain everything. Well, you see, the thing is, I thought your son was a lady. :unsure:

Posted

I'm sure the head waiter, he will want to apologize to you himself. I will fetch him at once.

Well, I'm awfully sorry, I'm -- I really can explain everything. Well, you see, the thing is, I thought your son was a lady. :unsure:

Suppose you agree that he can't actually have babies, not having a womb - which is nobody's fault, not even the Romans' - but that he can have the *right* to have babies.
  • Like 2
Posted

I'm sure the head waiter, he will want to apologize to you himself. I will fetch him at once.

Well, I'm awfully sorry, I'm -- I really can explain everything. Well, you see, the thing is, I thought your son was a lady. :unsure:

Suppose you agree that he can't actually have babies, not having a womb - which is nobody's fault, not even the Romans' - but that he can have the *right* to have babies.

Wonderful what we can do nowadays. Ah! I see you have the machine that goes 'Ping'. This is my favourite.

  • Like 2
Posted

I'm sure the head waiter, he will want to apologize to you himself. I will fetch him at once.

Well, I'm awfully sorry, I'm -- I really can explain everything. Well, you see, the thing is, I thought your son was a lady. :unsure:

Suppose you agree that he can't actually have babies, not having a womb - which is nobody's fault, not even the Romans' - but that he can have the *right* to have babies.

Wonderful what we can do nowadays. Ah! I see you have the machine that goes 'Ping'. This is my favourite.

That's definitely the cooker I ordered - a blue and white CookEasy. :atickhum:
Posted

I'm sure the head waiter, he will want to apologize to you himself. I will fetch him at once.

Well, I'm awfully sorry, I'm -- I really can explain everything. Well, you see, the thing is, I thought your son was a lady. :unsure:

Suppose you agree that he can't actually have babies, not having a womb - which is nobody's fault, not even the Romans' - but that he can have the *right* to have babies.

Wonderful what we can do nowadays. Ah! I see you have the machine that goes 'Ping'. This is my favourite.

That's definitely the cooker I ordered - a blue and white CookEasy. :atickhum:

I'll throw that in and a fiver, for the briefcase and the umbrella ... no, make it fair, the briefcase and the umbrella and the two pens in your breast pocket and the chair's yours and a fiver and a pair of ex-German U-boat commander's binoculars.

  • Like 2
Posted

I'm sure the head waiter, he will want to apologize to you himself. I will fetch him at once.

Well, I'm awfully sorry, I'm -- I really can explain everything. Well, you see, the thing is, I thought your son was a lady. :unsure:

Suppose you agree that he can't actually have babies, not having a womb - which is nobody's fault, not even the Romans' - but that he can have the *right* to have babies.

Wonderful what we can do nowadays. Ah! I see you have the machine that goes 'Ping'. This is my favourite.

That's definitely the cooker I ordered - a blue and white CookEasy. :atickhum:

I'll throw that in and a fiver, for the briefcase and the umbrella ... no, make it fair, the briefcase and the umbrella and the two pens in your breast pocket and the chair's yours and a fiver and a pair of ex-German U-boat commander's binoculars.

Are you trying to insult me? Me? With a poor dying grandmother? :moon:
  • Like 2
Posted

I'm sure the head waiter, he will want to apologize to you himself. I will fetch him at once.

Well, I'm awfully sorry, I'm -- I really can explain everything. Well, you see, the thing is, I thought your son was a lady. :unsure:

Suppose you agree that he can't actually have babies, not having a womb - which is nobody's fault, not even the Romans' - but that he can have the *right* to have babies.

Wonderful what we can do nowadays. Ah! I see you have the machine that goes 'Ping'. This is my favourite.

That's definitely the cooker I ordered - a blue and white CookEasy. :atickhum:

I'll throw that in and a fiver, for the briefcase and the umbrella ... no, make it fair, the briefcase and the umbrella and the two pens in your breast pocket and the chair's yours and a fiver and a pair of ex-German U-boat commander's binoculars.

Are you trying to insult me? Me? With a poor dying grandmother? :moon:

If we burn her, she gets stuffed in the flames, crackle, crackle, crackle, which is a bit of a shock if she's not quite dead, but quick. And then we give you handful of ashes, which you can pretend are hers. Or, if we bury her she gets eaten up lots of weevils, and nasty maggots, which as I said before is a bit of a shock if she's not quite dead.
  • Like 2
Posted

I'm sure the head waiter, he will want to apologize to you himself. I will fetch him at once.

Well, I'm awfully sorry, I'm -- I really can explain everything. Well, you see, the thing is, I thought your son was a lady. :unsure:

Suppose you agree that he can't actually have babies, not having a womb - which is nobody's fault, not even the Romans' - but that he can have the *right* to have babies.

Wonderful what we can do nowadays. Ah! I see you have the machine that goes 'Ping'. This is my favourite.

That's definitely the cooker I ordered - a blue and white CookEasy. :atickhum:

I'll throw that in and a fiver, for the briefcase and the umbrella ... no, make it fair, the briefcase and the umbrella and the two pens in your breast pocket and the chair's yours and a fiver and a pair of ex-German U-boat commander's binoculars.

Are you trying to insult me? Me? With a poor dying grandmother? :moon:

If we burn her, she gets stuffed in the flames, crackle, crackle, crackle, which is a bit of a shock if she's not quite dead, but quick. And then we give you handful of ashes, which you can pretend are hers. Or, if we bury her she gets eaten up lots of weevils, and nasty maggots, which as I said before is a bit of a shock if she's not quite dead.

It's 9 o'clock and time for 'Mortuary Hour'. An hour of talks, tunes and downright tomfoolery for all those who work in mortuaries, introduced as usual by Shirley Bassey.

  • Like 1
Posted

I'm sure the head waiter, he will want to apologize to you himself. I will fetch him at once.

Well, I'm awfully sorry, I'm -- I really can explain everything. Well, you see, the thing is, I thought your son was a lady. :unsure:

Suppose you agree that he can't actually have babies, not having a womb - which is nobody's fault, not even the Romans' - but that he can have the *right* to have babies.

Wonderful what we can do nowadays. Ah! I see you have the machine that goes 'Ping'. This is my favourite.

That's definitely the cooker I ordered - a blue and white CookEasy. :atickhum:

I'll throw that in and a fiver, for the briefcase and the umbrella ... no, make it fair, the briefcase and the umbrella and the two pens in your breast pocket and the chair's yours and a fiver and a pair of ex-German U-boat commander's binoculars.

Are you trying to insult me? Me? With a poor dying grandmother? :moon:

If we burn her, she gets stuffed in the flames, crackle, crackle, crackle, which is a bit of a shock if she's not quite dead, but quick. And then we give you handful of ashes, which you can pretend are hers. Or, if we bury her she gets eaten up lots of weevils, and nasty maggots, which as I said before is a bit of a shock if she's not quite dead.

It's 9 o'clock and time for 'Mortuary Hour'. An hour of talks, tunes and downright tomfoolery for all those who work in mortuaries, introduced as usual by Shirley Bassey.

Just mind your language... :tsk:
Posted

I'm sure the head waiter, he will want to apologize to you himself. I will fetch him at once.

Well, I'm awfully sorry, I'm -- I really can explain everything. Well, you see, the thing is, I thought your son was a lady. :unsure:

Suppose you agree that he can't actually have babies, not having a womb - which is nobody's fault, not even the Romans' - but that he can have the *right* to have babies.

Wonderful what we can do nowadays. Ah! I see you have the machine that goes 'Ping'. This is my favourite.

That's definitely the cooker I ordered - a blue and white CookEasy. :atickhum:

I'll throw that in and a fiver, for the briefcase and the umbrella ... no, make it fair, the briefcase and the umbrella and the two pens in your breast pocket and the chair's yours and a fiver and a pair of ex-German U-boat commander's binoculars.

Are you trying to insult me? Me? With a poor dying grandmother? :moon:

If we burn her, she gets stuffed in the flames, crackle, crackle, crackle, which is a bit of a shock if she's not quite dead, but quick. And then we give you handful of ashes, which you can pretend are hers. Or, if we bury her she gets eaten up lots of weevils, and nasty maggots, which as I said before is a bit of a shock if she's not quite dead.

It's 9 o'clock and time for 'Mortuary Hour'. An hour of talks, tunes and downright tomfoolery for all those who work in mortuaries, introduced as usual by Shirley Bassey.

Just mind your language... :tsk:

Semprini! :outtahere:

Posted

I'm sure the head waiter, he will want to apologize to you himself. I will fetch him at once.

Well, I'm awfully sorry, I'm -- I really can explain everything. Well, you see, the thing is, I thought your son was a lady. :unsure:

Suppose you agree that he can't actually have babies, not having a womb - which is nobody's fault, not even the Romans' - but that he can have the *right* to have babies.

Wonderful what we can do nowadays. Ah! I see you have the machine that goes 'Ping'. This is my favourite.

That's definitely the cooker I ordered - a blue and white CookEasy. :atickhum:

I'll throw that in and a fiver, for the briefcase and the umbrella ... no, make it fair, the briefcase and the umbrella and the two pens in your breast pocket and the chair's yours and a fiver and a pair of ex-German U-boat commander's binoculars.

Are you trying to insult me? Me? With a poor dying grandmother? :moon:

If we burn her, she gets stuffed in the flames, crackle, crackle, crackle, which is a bit of a shock if she's not quite dead, but quick. And then we give you handful of ashes, which you can pretend are hers. Or, if we bury her she gets eaten up lots of weevils, and nasty maggots, which as I said before is a bit of a shock if she's not quite dead.

It's 9 o'clock and time for 'Mortuary Hour'. An hour of talks, tunes and downright tomfoolery for all those who work in mortuaries, introduced as usual by Shirley Bassey.

Just mind your language... :tsk:

Semprini! :outtahere:

Yes! Tonight we examine the career of Gino Agnelli. The man who started from nothing to build up one of the greatest firms in Europe. :bang bang:
Posted

I'm sure the head waiter, he will want to apologize to you himself. I will fetch him at once.

Well, I'm awfully sorry, I'm -- I really can explain everything. Well, you see, the thing is, I thought your son was a lady. :unsure:

Suppose you agree that he can't actually have babies, not having a womb - which is nobody's fault, not even the Romans' - but that he can have the *right* to have babies.

Wonderful what we can do nowadays. Ah! I see you have the machine that goes 'Ping'. This is my favourite.

That's definitely the cooker I ordered - a blue and white CookEasy. :atickhum:

I'll throw that in and a fiver, for the briefcase and the umbrella ... no, make it fair, the briefcase and the umbrella and the two pens in your breast pocket and the chair's yours and a fiver and a pair of ex-German U-boat commander's binoculars.

Are you trying to insult me? Me? With a poor dying grandmother? :moon:

If we burn her, she gets stuffed in the flames, crackle, crackle, crackle, which is a bit of a shock if she's not quite dead, but quick. And then we give you handful of ashes, which you can pretend are hers. Or, if we bury her she gets eaten up lots of weevils, and nasty maggots, which as I said before is a bit of a shock if she's not quite dead.

It's 9 o'clock and time for 'Mortuary Hour'. An hour of talks, tunes and downright tomfoolery for all those who work in mortuaries, introduced as usual by Shirley Bassey.

Just mind your language... :tsk:

Semprini! :outtahere:

Yes! Tonight we examine the career of Gino Agnelli. The man who started from nothing to build up one of the greatest firms in Europe. :bang bang:

A man, well more than a man, a god, a great god, whose personality is so totally and utterly wonderful my feeble words of welcome sound wretchedly and pathetically inadequate. Someone whose boots I would gladly lick clean until holes wore through my tongue, a man who is so totally and utterly wonderful, that I would rather be sealed in a pit of my own filth, than dare tread on the same stage with him
Posted

I'm sure the head waiter, he will want to apologize to you himself. I will fetch him at once.

Well, I'm awfully sorry, I'm -- I really can explain everything. Well, you see, the thing is, I thought your son was a lady. :unsure:

Suppose you agree that he can't actually have babies, not having a womb - which is nobody's fault, not even the Romans' - but that he can have the *right* to have babies.

Wonderful what we can do nowadays. Ah! I see you have the machine that goes 'Ping'. This is my favourite.

That's definitely the cooker I ordered - a blue and white CookEasy. :atickhum:

I'll throw that in and a fiver, for the briefcase and the umbrella ... no, make it fair, the briefcase and the umbrella and the two pens in your breast pocket and the chair's yours and a fiver and a pair of ex-German U-boat commander's binoculars.

Are you trying to insult me? Me? With a poor dying grandmother? :moon:

If we burn her, she gets stuffed in the flames, crackle, crackle, crackle, which is a bit of a shock if she's not quite dead, but quick. And then we give you handful of ashes, which you can pretend are hers. Or, if we bury her she gets eaten up lots of weevils, and nasty maggots, which as I said before is a bit of a shock if she's not quite dead.

It's 9 o'clock and time for 'Mortuary Hour'. An hour of talks, tunes and downright tomfoolery for all those who work in mortuaries, introduced as usual by Shirley Bassey.

Just mind your language... :tsk:

Semprini! :outtahere:

Yes! Tonight we examine the career of Gino Agnelli. The man who started from nothing to build up one of the greatest firms in Europe. :bang bang:

A man, well more than a man, a god, a great god, whose personality is so totally and utterly wonderful my feeble words of welcome sound wretchedly and pathetically inadequate. Someone whose boots I would gladly lick clean until holes wore through my tongue, a man who is so totally and utterly wonderful, that I would rather be sealed in a pit of my own filth, than dare tread on the same stage with him

He's in our Durham studios...which is rather unfortunate as we're all down here in London.

  • Like 1
Posted

I'm sure the head waiter, he will want to apologize to you himself. I will fetch him at once.

Well, I'm awfully sorry, I'm -- I really can explain everything. Well, you see, the thing is, I thought your son was a lady. :unsure:

Suppose you agree that he can't actually have babies, not having a womb - which is nobody's fault, not even the Romans' - but that he can have the *right* to have babies.

Wonderful what we can do nowadays. Ah! I see you have the machine that goes 'Ping'. This is my favourite.

That's definitely the cooker I ordered - a blue and white CookEasy. :atickhum:

I'll throw that in and a fiver, for the briefcase and the umbrella ... no, make it fair, the briefcase and the umbrella and the two pens in your breast pocket and the chair's yours and a fiver and a pair of ex-German U-boat commander's binoculars.

Are you trying to insult me? Me? With a poor dying grandmother? :moon:

If we burn her, she gets stuffed in the flames, crackle, crackle, crackle, which is a bit of a shock if she's not quite dead, but quick. And then we give you handful of ashes, which you can pretend are hers. Or, if we bury her she gets eaten up lots of weevils, and nasty maggots, which as I said before is a bit of a shock if she's not quite dead.

It's 9 o'clock and time for 'Mortuary Hour'. An hour of talks, tunes and downright tomfoolery for all those who work in mortuaries, introduced as usual by Shirley Bassey.

Just mind your language... :tsk:

Semprini! :outtahere:

Yes! Tonight we examine the career of Gino Agnelli. The man who started from nothing to build up one of the greatest firms in Europe. :bang bang:

A man, well more than a man, a god, a great god, whose personality is so totally and utterly wonderful my feeble words of welcome sound wretchedly and pathetically inadequate. Someone whose boots I would gladly lick clean until holes wore through my tongue, a man who is so totally and utterly wonderful, that I would rather be sealed in a pit of my own filth, than dare tread on the same stage with him

He's in our Durham studios...which is rather unfortunate as we're all down here in London.

For the few who remained, life was increasingly difficult.
  • Like 1
Posted

I'm sure the head waiter, he will want to apologize to you himself. I will fetch him at once.

Well, I'm awfully sorry, I'm -- I really can explain everything. Well, you see, the thing is, I thought your son was a lady. :unsure:

Suppose you agree that he can't actually have babies, not having a womb - which is nobody's fault, not even the Romans' - but that he can have the *right* to have babies.

Wonderful what we can do nowadays. Ah! I see you have the machine that goes 'Ping'. This is my favourite.

That's definitely the cooker I ordered - a blue and white CookEasy. :atickhum:

I'll throw that in and a fiver, for the briefcase and the umbrella ... no, make it fair, the briefcase and the umbrella and the two pens in your breast pocket and the chair's yours and a fiver and a pair of ex-German U-boat commander's binoculars.

Are you trying to insult me? Me? With a poor dying grandmother? :moon:

If we burn her, she gets stuffed in the flames, crackle, crackle, crackle, which is a bit of a shock if she's not quite dead, but quick. And then we give you handful of ashes, which you can pretend are hers. Or, if we bury her she gets eaten up lots of weevils, and nasty maggots, which as I said before is a bit of a shock if she's not quite dead.

It's 9 o'clock and time for 'Mortuary Hour'. An hour of talks, tunes and downright tomfoolery for all those who work in mortuaries, introduced as usual by Shirley Bassey.

Just mind your language... :tsk:

Semprini! :outtahere:

Yes! Tonight we examine the career of Gino Agnelli. The man who started from nothing to build up one of the greatest firms in Europe. :bang bang:

A man, well more than a man, a god, a great god, whose personality is so totally and utterly wonderful my feeble words of welcome sound wretchedly and pathetically inadequate. Someone whose boots I would gladly lick clean until holes wore through my tongue, a man who is so totally and utterly wonderful, that I would rather be sealed in a pit of my own filth, than dare tread on the same stage with him

He's in our Durham studios...which is rather unfortunate as we're all down here in London.

For the few who remained, life was increasingly difficult.

I had to get up in the morning at ten o'clock at night, half an hour before I went to bed, drink a cup of cold poison, work twenty-nine hours a day down mill, and pay mill owner for permission to come to work, and when we got home, our Dad would kill us and dance about on our graves singing Hallelujah.

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Posted

I'm sure the head waiter, he will want to apologize to you himself. I will fetch him at once.

Well, I'm awfully sorry, I'm -- I really can explain everything. Well, you see, the thing is, I thought your son was a lady. :unsure:

Suppose you agree that he can't actually have babies, not having a womb - which is nobody's fault, not even the Romans' - but that he can have the *right* to have babies.

Wonderful what we can do nowadays. Ah! I see you have the machine that goes 'Ping'. This is my favourite.

That's definitely the cooker I ordered - a blue and white CookEasy. :atickhum:

I'll throw that in and a fiver, for the briefcase and the umbrella ... no, make it fair, the briefcase and the umbrella and the two pens in your breast pocket and the chair's yours and a fiver and a pair of ex-German U-boat commander's binoculars.

Are you trying to insult me? Me? With a poor dying grandmother? :moon:

If we burn her, she gets stuffed in the flames, crackle, crackle, crackle, which is a bit of a shock if she's not quite dead, but quick. And then we give you handful of ashes, which you can pretend are hers. Or, if we bury her she gets eaten up lots of weevils, and nasty maggots, which as I said before is a bit of a shock if she's not quite dead.

It's 9 o'clock and time for 'Mortuary Hour'. An hour of talks, tunes and downright tomfoolery for all those who work in mortuaries, introduced as usual by Shirley Bassey.

Just mind your language... :tsk:

Semprini! :outtahere:

Yes! Tonight we examine the career of Gino Agnelli. The man who started from nothing to build up one of the greatest firms in Europe. :bang bang:

A man, well more than a man, a god, a great god, whose personality is so totally and utterly wonderful my feeble words of welcome sound wretchedly and pathetically inadequate. Someone whose boots I would gladly lick clean until holes wore through my tongue, a man who is so totally and utterly wonderful, that I would rather be sealed in a pit of my own filth, than dare tread on the same stage with him

He's in our Durham studios...which is rather unfortunate as we're all down here in London.

For the few who remained, life was increasingly difficult.

I had to get up in the morning at ten o'clock at night, half an hour before I went to bed, drink a cup of cold poison, work twenty-nine hours a day down mill, and pay mill owner for permission to come to work, and when we got home, our Dad would kill us and dance about on our graves singing Hallelujah.

Mr Hitler...Hilter, he says historically Taunton is a part of Minehead already. :smash: :unsure: :bitchslap:
Posted

I'm sure the head waiter, he will want to apologize to you himself. I will fetch him at once.

Well, I'm awfully sorry, I'm -- I really can explain everything. Well, you see, the thing is, I thought your son was a lady. :unsure:

Suppose you agree that he can't actually have babies, not having a womb - which is nobody's fault, not even the Romans' - but that he can have the *right* to have babies.

Wonderful what we can do nowadays. Ah! I see you have the machine that goes 'Ping'. This is my favourite.

That's definitely the cooker I ordered - a blue and white CookEasy. :atickhum:

I'll throw that in and a fiver, for the briefcase and the umbrella ... no, make it fair, the briefcase and the umbrella and the two pens in your breast pocket and the chair's yours and a fiver and a pair of ex-German U-boat commander's binoculars.

Are you trying to insult me? Me? With a poor dying grandmother? :moon:

If we burn her, she gets stuffed in the flames, crackle, crackle, crackle, which is a bit of a shock if she's not quite dead, but quick. And then we give you handful of ashes, which you can pretend are hers. Or, if we bury her she gets eaten up lots of weevils, and nasty maggots, which as I said before is a bit of a shock if she's not quite dead.

It's 9 o'clock and time for 'Mortuary Hour'. An hour of talks, tunes and downright tomfoolery for all those who work in mortuaries, introduced as usual by Shirley Bassey.

Just mind your language... :tsk:

Semprini! :outtahere:

Yes! Tonight we examine the career of Gino Agnelli. The man who started from nothing to build up one of the greatest firms in Europe. :bang bang:

A man, well more than a man, a god, a great god, whose personality is so totally and utterly wonderful my feeble words of welcome sound wretchedly and pathetically inadequate. Someone whose boots I would gladly lick clean until holes wore through my tongue, a man who is so totally and utterly wonderful, that I would rather be sealed in a pit of my own filth, than dare tread on the same stage with him

He's in our Durham studios...which is rather unfortunate as we're all down here in London.

For the few who remained, life was increasingly difficult.

I had to get up in the morning at ten o'clock at night, half an hour before I went to bed, drink a cup of cold poison, work twenty-nine hours a day down mill, and pay mill owner for permission to come to work, and when we got home, our Dad would kill us and dance about on our graves singing Hallelujah.

Mr Hitler...Hilter, he says historically Taunton is a part of Minehead already. :smash: :unsure: :bitchslap:

I'm sick of all this bloody fighting. If it's not the bloody Treaty of Utrecht it's the bloody binomial theorem. This isn't the senior common room at All Souls, it's the bloody coal face. :tsk:

Posted

I'm sure the head waiter, he will want to apologize to you himself. I will fetch him at once.

Well, I'm awfully sorry, I'm -- I really can explain everything. Well, you see, the thing is, I thought your son was a lady. :unsure:

Suppose you agree that he can't actually have babies, not having a womb - which is nobody's fault, not even the Romans' - but that he can have the *right* to have babies.

Wonderful what we can do nowadays. Ah! I see you have the machine that goes 'Ping'. This is my favourite.

That's definitely the cooker I ordered - a blue and white CookEasy. :atickhum:

I'll throw that in and a fiver, for the briefcase and the umbrella ... no, make it fair, the briefcase and the umbrella and the two pens in your breast pocket and the chair's yours and a fiver and a pair of ex-German U-boat commander's binoculars.

Are you trying to insult me? Me? With a poor dying grandmother? :moon:

If we burn her, she gets stuffed in the flames, crackle, crackle, crackle, which is a bit of a shock if she's not quite dead, but quick. And then we give you handful of ashes, which you can pretend are hers. Or, if we bury her she gets eaten up lots of weevils, and nasty maggots, which as I said before is a bit of a shock if she's not quite dead.

It's 9 o'clock and time for 'Mortuary Hour'. An hour of talks, tunes and downright tomfoolery for all those who work in mortuaries, introduced as usual by Shirley Bassey.

Just mind your language... :tsk:

Semprini! :outtahere:

Yes! Tonight we examine the career of Gino Agnelli. The man who started from nothing to build up one of the greatest firms in Europe. :bang bang:

A man, well more than a man, a god, a great god, whose personality is so totally and utterly wonderful my feeble words of welcome sound wretchedly and pathetically inadequate. Someone whose boots I would gladly lick clean until holes wore through my tongue, a man who is so totally and utterly wonderful, that I would rather be sealed in a pit of my own filth, than dare tread on the same stage with him

He's in our Durham studios...which is rather unfortunate as we're all down here in London.

For the few who remained, life was increasingly difficult.

I had to get up in the morning at ten o'clock at night, half an hour before I went to bed, drink a cup of cold poison, work twenty-nine hours a day down mill, and pay mill owner for permission to come to work, and when we got home, our Dad would kill us and dance about on our graves singing Hallelujah.

Mr Hitler...Hilter, he says historically Taunton is a part of Minehead already. :smash: :unsure: :bitchslap:

I'm sick of all this bloody fighting. If it's not the bloody Treaty of Utrecht it's the bloody binomial theorem. This isn't the senior common room at All Souls, it's the bloody coal face. :tsk:

Bloody heck. Oh, dear, er terribly sorry about this, about saying bloody heck on TRF. :blush:
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